Make Me Feel
by NotAnIslander
Summary: A growing back together drabble- or, When Katniss Realizes She Loves Peeta
Special thanks to Louezem, PMAddict, and chele20035 for their prereading and beta skills. You girls rock!

And, most importantly, happy birthday to my dear friend, and number one encourager ct522. This is for you!

This was written after binge listening to Aretha Franklin belt out the Carole King classic (You Make Me Feel Like A Natural Woman). To me, that song screams Katniss and Peeta. So to get you in the mood for this drabble, I suggest you go to youtube and put that song on repeat, then look at the picture of Katniss and Peeta as they stare out the front door at the rain...

 **Make Me Feel** _(inspired by the song You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman)_

She's not sure how long she's felt this way, just that she _does._ It kind of snuck up on her, and now she understands what Finnick meant when he said that to her a lifetime ago. She looks across to him, her silver eyes meeting his blue. A soft grin on his face, a warmth spreading up her neck. And in that one moment, the realization hits her. Slams into her really. What would she ever do without this boy? This man?

It's a feeling she hasn't felt since her father died. It's not really contentment, not really happiness. It's something else, something she can't define. But as they sit, staring out at the morning rain, she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that she loves him. She loves the man who sits with her.

"What are you thinking Katniss?" Peeta asks, almost shyly. They've been back in 12 together for months now. They've moved past those first tentative steps toward reconciliation. Each night they work together on the memory book, and they have been sharing a bed now for the past few weeks. The kisses, which began so hesitant, have begun to take on more passion. It feels almost like it did before, in the second arena by the beach, but it's different. It's fuller, it's more complete. It belongs to them, and only them.

" _I'm so tired Katniss,"_ she remembers him saying back during the assault on the Capitol. He just wanted it over. Finished. Done. If that was what life was going to be like for him, hijacked and fighting the urge to hurt Katniss all of the time, fearing what would happen if The Capitol, or even the authorities in 13 got ahold of him again, then he wanted no part of it anymore. He was so tired. His eyes only showed pain, conflict. His voice reflected her feelings of hopelessness. Just so, so tired.

She knows that kind of tired. She was there in that same darkness before he came back. If that was what life was to be like, then she wanted no part of it either. No part of the nightmares, with horrors so real it was almost not worth it to go to sleep. It was the guilt, the responsibility of all of those deaths on her shoulders. Each night she would recount all of her loved ones, now gone. Dead.

Before he came back, she was nothing. Just a soul existing. But she wasn't living. She was like a single glove in the lost and found pile she remembered from her elementary school days. A rag, useless on her own. Perhaps she could be used for a one-handed person. But how much need was there for that? Besides, winter was over, the snow melted, no one needed a glove anymore.

She was finished. She was ready to die, just like her father, her sister, Finnick, Boggs, Jackson, Castor, Holmes, the Leeg sisters, Madge, Peeta's family. But something held her back. She wasn't sure what it was, just that it wasn't quite time yet…

Then he came back and, like a child reclaiming his beloved glove, he reclaimed her. He gave her purpose and a meaning again. He gave her back her peace. The dreams are still there, the deaths still weigh on her shoulders, but he showed her that she wasn't alone. She had someone to go with her on this journey.

After everything she put him through: The beating for the bread when they were kids, the first arena, the time in between the two games, the second arena, the hijacking. Everything. He still came back. He's still here. His voice is still the only one that reaches her.

"Are you happy Peeta?" that's what she's thinking. That's what she's always thinking. Is he happy here, with her, in this bombed out district that is slowly beginning to climb out of it's own darkness. She wants him happy. More than anything, she wants him happy and she wants to be the one who makes him happy.

"Yeah. Yeah Katniss, I'm happy," he answers simply, nodding his head up and down. And she believes him. It's the look in his eye, how he looks directly at her when he says it. Like he's willing her to believe him. "It's taken some time, for both of us I think. But now? Here? With you? Yeah, I'm happy," and he gives her _that_ smile. The one with just the right touch of shyness, the one that reaches to her heart.

She stretches her hand out, the one that had been resting in her lap. And he meets it with his own hand. They connect in the middle, and then he pulls her towards him. She goes willingly to his side. His other hand reaches up to trace her face, her eyes, her lips. He leans his own lips to hers. Their kiss, which starts off soft builds passionately. Soon she's on her back, the door still open to the rain outside, but they don't have a care in the world. He's over her, protecting her as he always does, from whatever may be.

"Peeta!" she gasps. "Katniss!" he breathes. And they fit together like a hand inside of that reclaimed glove. It's tender, and sweet, and full of all of the love they have been storing up for the other.

 _So after…_ two simple words that mean so much to her. There was before- she was a shell, a lost glove, a tired soul. But after? Her life is slowly seeping back into her. It starts in her heart, and she feels it slowly radiate through her veins, her limbs, and out of her body.

She is waking up. She is climbing out of the grave she was living in. Slowly, she says goodbye to those she's loved and lost. Slowly she accepts that while she is still a burned girl with no sister, she is also alive. Peeta is the only one who can do this to her. The only one who can bring her back to life. The only one who can reclaim her from her personal exile. The only one who can give her peace.

His kisses breathe life into her. His touch soothes her fears. His peace gives her rest. He's happy, she needs nothing more than that right now. He's happy, she doesn't need _to do_ anything more than that right now… He's happy, and finally, she's ready to feel happy too.


End file.
